The House Competition Collection (Year Five)
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: As The House Competition progresses, I'll add all my entries. Enjoy!
1. The New Marriage

**House: **Snakes

**Class: **Charms

**Category: **Drabble

**Prompt:** Charlie Weasley [Character]

**Word Count: **700

**Author's Note:** I hope y'all enjoy this drabble! I absolutely love writing in this style so I hope y'all can appreciate it as much as I loved writing it for you :)

_As always, enjoy_

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

**The New Marriage**

* * *

"It's not as if fathering fortune is going to change things, Charlie," his younger brother kindly reminded him as they ambled down the flourishing gardens of their estate. It was a clear spring day and the two Weasley brothers had been drawn outside, basking in the life-giving rays of the sun when the topic of Charlie's impending marriage to Hermione Granger reminded them of their dilemma. It goes to show that Charlie wasn't too keen on taking the hand of some poor helpless girl; she had no inkling of the mounting debt that their father was able to procure over the years, and that marrying her would alleviate some of the dues their father had collected from their adversaries. "Some things in this world come to us unjustly, and our father's sins are just one of those misfortunes."

"To bring an innocent woman into this matter is absurd, Ronald," Charlie bent down and plucked the nearest bud he could find. He stood up and gazed at the immature flower. "Take this bud I've just plucked, for example. It was on the brink of great wonder and now I've sullied any possible revenue for it to flourish. It didn't get the chance to live its short but meaningful life. How do you think that will take with a woman who is just now coming into her own?"

"Not fairly well, I'm certain. As you've taken life from that poor and helpless flower, you may very well be allowing the others who had the misfortune of not being as strong to flourish. As disastrous as you may think this situation is, take into account that some good may come of it. "

Charlie didn't allow his brother's words to sink in. "An old letter could excite a young romantic with its gregarious words. Though rogue haste always sharpens the versatile bird."

"Whatever course fate has decided for you both, I'm more than certain that you'll excel in all your endeavours you choose to pursue. Strength is only given to those who believe in it, and I truly believe that you'll make the right decision in the end because I cannot make that for you."

"Not for those who bound a woman to them without an escape," Charlie murmured bitterly as he looked at the decapitated remnants of the bud he just stole from the earth. "What am I to do, Ronald? Make her accept my love and give them romance? Why father fortune than play this proposal, when betrayal of all sensibility must call through pride in us? Some hope from age we receive affection, and if seeking more than common virtue between characters, how will material persuasion judge the strong bird too? I do not possess the strength to lie to a woman that I've fallen for. Hermione deserves more than the deception I have given her."

Ronald turned to his brother and looked upon him with sympathy.

In his time of need, that was the last thing Charlie wanted.

Forcing the hand of a woman who did nothing to deserve his unjust treatment was low, even for Charlie. If it wasn't for his father's legacy of scrounging and deceiving those close to him, he wouldn't bother. He was torn between helping his family or calling off a marriage that wouldn't be of true mind or volition. To whom does his kind actions belong to? Not him, he reminded himself.

"I trust that you'll find a solution. What father has done is not our business but it will stay with our person for the remainder of our lives. If forcing you to marry someone who doesn't love you will lesson the burden of knowing the struggles father has put us through, then I don't know what the best course of action is. Unfortunately, that falls on your shoulders and all I can do now is hope for a sound outcome."

Charlie stood there and watched his younger brother walk away.

In his hand, the bud pulsed with some residual life before the beating of its final breath faded away.

He looked away and whispered, "Hermione, make our love live. For I, hide my lonely heart in you to find."


	2. Chapter 2

**House: **Snakes

**Class: **Charms

**Category: **Standard

**Prompt:** Homesick [Emotion]

**Word Count: **1,039

**Author's Note:** I hope y'all enjoy this standard! I absolutely love writing in this style so I hope y'all can appreciate it as much as I loved writing it for you :)

_As always, enjoy_

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

**The True Meaning of Family**

* * *

It was only during the dead of night that Dudley was able to think.

Closed off from the ordinary world around him, he allowed the lull of midnight to pull him into an eternal reverie. His thoughts traveled to a more pleasant time, one filled with mischief and magic. The stars clustered around him in a protective blanket as his memories whisked him away to a more vulnerable state. Those days spent under the tree in the backyard and stealing cookies from the kitchen would always have a special place in his heart. It's only been three days since his cousin departed for the extraordinary school for the gifted, leaving him to wonder what it means to truly belong and what it meant for the imminent future. It's been three days since his life turned upside down.

Never in his life had he felt so homesick. Dudley didn't know the true meaning of the word until Harry suddenly dropped the idea of putting his family into hiding. He came to them during a time of desperate need; his eyes had been filled with such anguish that Dudely knew that whatever he was about to tell them wasn't for the faint of heart. With the darkness lurking in every corner, Dudley suspected that it was for the greater good and Harry must care for them in his own way to extend that gracious idea. For some odd reason, he only felt right when Harry was with him and, despite everything Dudley and his parents did to him over the years, Harry forgave them. They were a family in their own special way; it was only now that Dudley was coming to his senses and regretted everything he'd done.

A home was a place of solitude and a place of worship.

For every wrong-doing and despicable act he'd done as a child, Dudley would softly bang his fist against the wall and let out a heartening sob. Life, one of the greatest showmen of comedy and drama, wasn't fair and he would've done anything to go back in time and reprimand the child he once was. Maybe then, they wouldn't be in this predicament. They were nothing more than defenseless animals for slaughter. They didn't know what they were up against and the only one they could trust with a connection to that world was Harry, wherever he may be.

"_We're not the same, Dudley_," Harry's cool voice echoed in his mind as he laid his chin to rest against the window frame in his second bedroom. His eyes briefly combed the darkened room, landing on the miscellaneous things he'd procured from his parents with a little bribery and full-blown tantrums. It was true the toys and knick-knacks were pleasant enough at the time, but now they've lost their purpose. Dudley wondered if all things were destined to come to an end; as destiny would have it, life wasn't always fair. "_We don't reside in the same world but you have to take my word._ _You have to leave because it's the only way I can protect you_."

"What if I don't want to go," the conversation continued as if they weren't already living in their own personal hell. Even though he wasn't like his cousin, he knew when trouble was brewing. There were dark forces playing this night; it was the likes of which no one had seen. Dudley sighed, but didn't expect a voice to answer his call."What if I want to stay and fight?"

"_You must leave_," it told him sternly, his eyes giving the only sign that the fight he will be facing may be his last.

"You don't know what you're doing," Dudley told it bitterly, allowing the silence to engulf him. He played this conversation in his mind so many times, but this was entirely new. It was a 'what if' that didn't have a chance to prosper and he couldn't help carrying it through. "How do you know that you can defeat whatever is out there?"

Again, there was silence until the voice answered in a broken tone. "_I don't know. I could succeed or I could fail miserably. Whatever the cost, I cannot allow another person to die at my expense_."

"What about _us_," Dudley cried into oblivion. "You're leaving us to fend for ourselves! We don't know what we're up against and you're placing us into hiding until you solve whatever evil that's lurking out there. It's not _fair_!"

"_Sometimes life isn't fair either, Dudley."_

Harry's voice left a chilling impression inside of his heart.

Dudley broke down and sobbed.

He sobbed for all the years he tormented his cousin, for all the times his parents were cruel to him and made him feel so worthless. Most importantly, he sobbed for not being able to provide the kind of structure Harry needed to feel welcomed. Harry had lost so many to the cause and it was only now that Dudley was finally able to come to terms with the severity of the situation.

Like the friends he was fighting so desperately for, Harry wanted his home back. That school had been a place of comfort and sanctuary. Now, it was only the shining remnants of what the meaning of family stood for. That school was his home and the people who lived there had become his family. Dudley was so blinded by his emotions that he didn't see what was right in front of him. If Harry could be strong for the ones he loved, so could Dudley. He, too, had a family he wanted to protect. Harry was always able to face evil head-on and Dudley wanted to be able to possess the strength his cousin had.

A home was something you fought for and protected with your life and that's exactly what Dudley planned on doing.

Dudley needed to fight for his home, his life, and his own future. But, he was going to do it his own way. He wasn't going to listen to what other people had to say because this wasn't their story to tell. He will do everything to protect his home, so that he has something in the future.


	3. In This Life of Mine

House/Team: Snakes

Class Subject: Charms

Category: Drabble

Prompt(s): [Setting] Hogwarts Library

Word Count: 571

* * *

**In This Life of Mine**

* * *

Books held the very essence that gave humans license to breathe.

Or, so Hermione thought dreamily. She inhaled deeply, validating the very thought that's been perpetrating her mind for quite some time. She flipped to the next page and continued to read. The library was disturbed with the vulturous noise of an evening study period. Yet, hermione found no disturbance in her ability to concentrate on her task of finishing her favorite book, A History of Magic. She'd nestled herself in her favorite armchair which overlooked the Black Lake. From time to time, she peeked over the top of her book to take a break, but she was right back to reading before anyone had the chance to notice the distraction.

"Why do you always read so much," everyone would ask her.

The simple answer was that she loved to read.

Hermione adored the fresh scent of a newly purchased book, but her real passion lay within the decaying pages of a worn book. No one understood the knowledge that she could gather within her texts; they were preoccupied by their own passions to notice the joy a library could bring. It was like going on a treasure hunt every single day and discovering something entirely new with each voyage. It lit a fire in Hermione's soul like nothing ever had; she was truly passionate about the adventures she could embark on with just a book.

"I see you're reading again," Draco sneered as he sat down next to her, looking at her worn book with deteste. They'd come to an understanding a few months ago, but that didn't lessen the impact the tone of his voice held. "Always the know-it-all, I see."

"Malfoy," Hermione began with a sigh, closing her book firmly before looking him in the eye," books are everything. How many times must we have this conversation?"

"Until I get bored and find something more interesting to talk about," he grinned mischievously. "Why don't you take a break? You've read that book a thousand times. Don't you get tired of reading the same passages every day?"

It was hard for her to get through to him that not all books were the same.

There were different writing styles to consider, not to mention the vastly different opinions on the motley of different topics that one could discover. Draco just hasn't found the right books to ignite his own passion in reading. Hermione looked around, studying the large bookshelves. She wondered what book she _hadn't _read. That would be the one question that would garner interest.

"You're right, I've read this book a thousand times," Hermione told him softly before disengaging her mind with particular determination to peak his interest," but it's my favorite book and there's nothing more satisfying than re-reading and finishing something you've already read."

"What's the point when you know how the books starts and ends?"

"Re-reading something always sparks another interesting thought that you hadn't noticed the last time you read it. It's the same reason you go back and watch all those memories from your Quidditch games. It's the same concept. Your mind was preoccupied by something and you wanted to figure out what was bothering you. You see, we're more alike than you're willing to admit and one day I'll teach you the fundamental joys of opening a book and discovering something new every time you do."


	4. The Mortal Phoenix

House/Team: Snakes

Class Subject: Charms

Category: Drabble

Word Count: 654

Prompt(s):[Song Prompt] Turning Tables by Adele

* * *

**The Mortal Phoenix**

* * *

Grindelwald stared into the endless abyss that lay before him. He'd grown tired of waiting for the eclipse that would become the new world… a world that he envisioned so many times created at his own hand. The smoke from his signature hand-sculpted skull vape swirled around him in voluptuous clouds, rotating in synchronization as he closed his eyes and almost inhaled the colorful visual he was witnessing before him. He saw shards of darkness and heard the sharp intake of air upon the first elegant blow of his powerful reign. This wasn't a vision he was witnessing; it was the future of the world as he knew it. One day, he would rule them all.

"You know it is terribly impolite to stare," he whispered to the darkness, opening his eyes and exhaling deeply as if the light in which he found himself was scorching his skin. He'd come to the realization that someone had followed him long before he sat down in the dank abandonment that was his family home and in the embankment of this starry night, the boy's presence only served to anger him. Three nights in a row he found himself playing a morbid host and it was about time he put an end to it."Even more so… it is entirely impolite not to introduce yourself before you try to draw your wand on someone."

A shadow moved in his peripheral vision.

Grindelwald watched him from the corner of his iced-over eye, a trait that he'd long since come to own. Aside from his frosty appearance, his admiration in himself was ghastly and only served to motivate him more in his journey to rid the world of all that was unholy. Unfortunately, that didn't explain his newly found companion's decision to follow him during the apex of the night and scurrying away like a damn fool at the slightest inclination.

For some strange, the boy fascinated him. No matter how much he tried, Grindelwald could not see the boy in his foreseeable future, something that had been troubling him as of late. He believed that one day, he would die at his companion's hands. But, what sort of death would it be without knowing the name of his executioner?

"I'm gonna die and I don't even know your name," Grindelwald finally said. The cold thin air became their anthem, a pounding demonstration to how much the boy controlled him. He'd never known such submission or absolute domination. "If that so pleases you, then at least give me the liberty of knowing it before I meet my demise."

"I would rather not," the boy said, his voice nothing but a breathy whisper upon Grindelwald's otherwise cool skin. "Otherwise, you will learn the name of your untimely admirer."

"Admirer," Grindelwald barraged with a laugh. His laughter echoed throughout the sacred hall, reverberating healthily against the walls. "I am to be admired, but that isn't what I asked."

"What good would come if you knew my name," the boy asked mockingly. "Either way, you're only going to suffer. The thought of not knowing will burn a hole in your heart, and knowing will only deepen your need for survival. You're helpless in both endeavors either way."

Grindelwald considered this for a moment. He looked to the smoke to see if the boy held some significance in his future and he did.

It was true, this boy was meant to destroy him.

His heart and mind were on the brink of war, and the only thing that was holding Grindelwald together was the memory of the boy before he turned his back and disappeared into the darkness. The necklace that once hung dangerously from his neck lay helplessly on the floor; in one split moment, he forgot what he was fighting this battle for and what his purpose in life was.

In a fraction of a second, everything changed.


	5. Pink Glitter and Crossbows

**Written for The Houses Competition **

**House: **Gryffindor

**Position:** Transfiguration

**Category (THEME): **It's the zombie apocalypse and you have survived on your own. One day, you run into a clan of other survivors.

**Prompt:** [Speech] "It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did."

**Drabble/Standard: **Entry #1 (?)

**Word Count: **1885

**Author's Note: **I'm assuming the Theme specifies that I write in the first-person narrative. It's something I'm not entirely fond of but decided to do so anyway. I hope y'all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

_As always, enjoy._

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

**Pink Glitter and Crossbows**

The abandoned building is nothing spectacular.

There's not enough glitter or pink, but what am I going to do? Society as I knew it was over; the world was a different place, and it was all because of a disease that ravaged the world and turned beautiful people into brain-eating, mindless creatures in dire need of a good facial.

It's a zombie apocalypse, duh.

As I look at the empty shelves which I use to store medicine and food, I twist my lips to the side and shake my head. I have plenty of food but I have nothing that will heal the wound on my side. The only thing I have are bandages but I only have a few of them left. My blonde bangs fall over my eyes and I push them out of the way. A stab of pain pierces my side and I hold in a cry. The last time I went out in search of supplies, I ended up falling and injuring myself. Instead of taking care of the injury when I first got it, I ignored it, and now I'm knocking on death's door.

Why did I have to go and get hurt?

At any moment I could be ambushed and I am _so _not in the mood to kill another zombie right now.

I pick up my bag and look around the small building.

It used to be some sort of pharmacy, but since the end of the world, I managed to turn it into a pretty happening place.

I have purple curtains and a kickass bachelor pad with at least thirty disco balls that I made from old CDs. The entire place is decked out with items I'd found along the way before I'd settled down. I sound like one of those marrying types, but since I have yet to run into another survivor, let alone a companion, I'm stuck with old magazines from the '70s and a radio that doesn't work half the time. What I wouldn't do for a nice bath.

I would definitely say I've made a nice and cozy little place for myself.

All the people I went to High School with can finally say that I've made something of myself. Well, I don't know if they're still alive, but I'll chalk it up to a win.

Slowly, I make my way back to my bedroom.

To be honest, it's just a lump of old sheets I managed to clean but hey, a bed is a bed, and I have no time to think about the luxuries I once had.

The far left corner holds an arsenal of devices I was able to rig up. It took me several months, but I was able to create a glitter smoke bomb that, once activated, sprays out obnoxious fumes that can reach thirty feet away. Most people wouldn't believe the sort of things I can come up with, but with as much time as I have had and the almost comical amount of glitter I have, I can create just about anything.

Right now, the pain in my side has subsided some.

I grab the last tube of numbing cream, lift up my shirt, and apply it to the three-inch gash I have running down the side of my torso. It's crusted over and since I didn't learn much during health, I suppose that's what it's supposed to do. I wince at the pain but soon, the pain is followed by a cooling sensation. To be honest, I have no idea what this does but since I can't find anything else that'll permanently alleviate the pain, I have to work with what I've got.

Something begins to rustle from underneath my makeshift home.

I look down at the ground, expecting a herd of zombies to pop out from beneath the building. For some odd reason, the building had a small maze that connected to a few other buildings in the area. I have no idea where they really lead to; I have no desire to explore and get lost in one of the tunnels. I can't just let whatever is down there to come inside my base, though.

I feel for one of my larger bombs, feeling the familiar texture of the green tape. It's one of my more ambitious bombs, but I'm praying it'll do the trick. If glitter and tear gas can't subdue a zombie long enough for me to drive a screwdriver through their head, I don't know what will.

Slowly, I retreat to the back of the building.

Inside a small storage closet lies the entrance to the underground tunnel system.

As I said, I have absolutely no desire to look around and I'm most certainly underprepared to face whatever may be lying in wait.

Whoever, or whatever it is, I will be ready to strike.

Without so much as a preamble, I open the door to the storage room, bend down, and slowly lift the door to the underground tunnels. Licking my lips, I glance at the bomb in my hand. As quick as a flash, I tear the safety mechanism on the bomb, throw it down the hole, and shut the door just in time. The bomb creates a huge explosion, shaking the hinges on the door. I step backward, my eyes trained on the smoke as it escapes between the cracks of the door.

A loud noise sounds and it takes me a minute to realize that the noise is something I've heard before.

Granted, it's been a while since I've heard a human cry out in misery, but I'm more than certain that's what it is.

Before I know it, the trapdoor flies open and five glitter-clothed individuals emerge from the depths of the underground tunnels.

I stumble backward, my crossbow already pointed at their leader's head.

He has shaggy, dark brown hair and an overgrowth of facial hair covering most of his face. His eyes are brown as well and hold so much sorrow in them that I can't possibly begin to understand. It's been ten years since the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, but what on Earth could he be hiding behind these grief-laden eyes?

"Oh, I am so sorry," I tell them, whispering, "I thought you were zombies."

"It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did," someone says, trying to shake off the remaining patches of glitter that's now sticking to their jacket.

I step back, taking them all in, and pout. "It took me a while to make those, you know. It took me, like, forever to find pink glitter…"

"_You _made that?" the older woman asks in disbelief.

There are three men, a woman, and a child.

None of them seem to think that I'm capable of doing anything except stand there and look pretty. If they were to see all of the other weapons that I've been able to rig up, then maybe they wouldn't look at me like I was stupid.

I step forward and try to wipe away some of the glitter clinging onto the leader's clothing, but he brushes off my friendly advances with a wave of his hand.

"How about you stop trying to help me?" he hisses before walking away. "What's your name, anyway? You got family with you?"

"My name is Theodore Nott," I tell him, frowning. "My family died a few years ago."

"So, you've been on your own ever since, huh?"

"For the most part, mister…"

"Sirius Black," the shaggy-haired man says with a nod. "That's Charlie and Ron. The woman there is Pansy and her daughter's name is Antaresia."

I follow them into the main room of the building, watching them as they wander down the aisle and look around the room. They appear to be fairly impressed by the state of my base, but it's not long before one of the other men speaks.

"Tell me something, Blondie… how did you manage to survive on your own for so long?"

He's a younger male with flaming red hair and freckles. He looks strangely like the other man clinging to the woman's side. Perhaps they're family, but I don't have the chance to ask when the leader breaks the silence that seems to permeate the air. "I found this place two years ago," I tell him slowly. "Took me forever to get all these little trinkets."

"Okay, I'll bite," Sirius says. "Who did you trade with? There's no way in hell you were able to make those bombs without someone helping you."

"I didn't trade with anyone," I began before growing silent. "Wait, are you telling me there are others around this area? I've searched for months, but…"

The leader only stares at me.

I look at him innocently, completely floored that other people exist outside my own little world.

"I did get a few transmissions a few weeks ago," I tell them finally. "But I thought I was hearing things. My brain must be a little messed up."

"Don't take this personally, but I don't think you have any brains for the zombies to devour," he murmurs.

"Uh, okay rude." I frown. "I'd love to see what you can make with a couple of cups of glitter and some pepper spray."

"So, you decided to make bombs?"

"Well, what would you have made?" Now it's my turn to make him feel stupid. "I have guns and other things, too, you know. As I said, glitter is hard to come by so I've had to be a little creative."

"How so?" the leader asks, raising an eyebrow.

I smile and usher them into the corner that I've converted into a makeshift weapons closet. I open the purple curtain hiding my weapons and watch their faces change from pure doubt to shock. Along my travels, I've managed to pick up an array of tools and accessories. I have glitter, shotguns, machetes, crossbows, and so much more. My most recent invention happens to be another bomb. This time, it contains more glitter, and instead of pepper spray, it has a small amount of TNT. Once lit, I'm only allowed a good thirty seconds before it explodes, so I have to be strategic about when and how I use it.

Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to test it on any zombies yet.

Smiling, I pick it up, along with a crossbow I've attached a large metal spike to, and swing it over my left shoulder.

"Pretty neat for someone without a brain, huh?" I ask Sirius with a grin.

He only stares at me, his mouth slightly open.

Before any of them can say anything, I react almost instinctively.

I aim my crossbow at the wall behind them and pull the trigger, my eyes trained on the bird that managed to infiltrate my base. In a blink of an eye, the pink bow shoots across the room and pierces the bird, instantly killing it. I stand there for a moment, my heart heavy with sorrow before I withdraw my crossbow and lift it onto my left shoulder.

"Again, it takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did," Sirius says, a smile forming on his face.


	6. The Purpose of Life

**Written for The Houses Competition **

**House: **Gryffindor

**Position:** Transfiguration

**Special Theme: **Bellatrix (Lestrange)

**Prompts: **[Speech] "Some things matter more than love."

**Drabble/Standard: **

**Word Count: **2117

* * *

**The Purpose of Life **

The sudden downpour of rain didn't improve the already dank atmosphere. London was a muddy and disgusting place, all thanks to the bleak turn in the weather, but Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't too concerned about that as she made her way down the busy street one evening. She was on her way to meet up with her sisters for a nice weeknight retreat. It was a weekly ritual for them, and Lord knew she needed a break. A nice cup of brandy and greasy food would do wonders to improve her mood. The weather was just an added inconvenience.

As she passed unsuspectedly by a throng of young soldiers, her thoughts turned to the war that was emerging.

Bellatrix Lestrange was a mathematical genius and had a mind for numbers; even as she walked past the soldiers and crossed the street, her mind was filled with the mounting death toll. Roughly forty million people had died in the first war, and she couldn't begin to fathom what the death toll of the new world war would bring. She often wondered what it would take to finally end all this mess herself. She knew nothing about time; just when everyone thought the Great War would be the last, Germany turned around and invaded Poland, thrusting the world into another arena of bloodshed and misery.

She drew her jacket closer to her body.

She hardly noticed the figure in front of her as they exited the pub.

Bellatrix let out a sudden cry, looked up, and said, "Excuse me," before entering the pub herself.

The pub was as dreadful as the weather outside.

The young woman squeezed through the small doorway, only to be welcomed graciously into a large, opened room with long, wooden tables with piles of food scattered unevenly across the surface. Several stacks of dishes and towers of cups floated by in a soft current and jeers erupted from all four corners of the room as small beams of light scattered across the wooden floor. Bellatrix scoffed at the disgusting scene before her, muttering 'unclean' and 'messy' as she looked for the owner. She tried to pull away from the noisy and less than considerate customers, whose faces were covered either in whiskey, food, or a mixture of the two.

Bellatrix took in the familiar room. The very first thing she noticed or rather heard, was the whispers coming from the nearby portraits and scenic paintings on the wall closest to the open bar. All around them, lively noise and joyous banter filled the room. The scent of freshly baked desserts, meat pies, specialty items of the day, and so much more wafted invitingly throughout the room. Bellatrix's stomach protested, giving an answer to an earlier question that she had had. There was no doubt now that she wouldn't be able to fill herself to the brink of content explosion with a delicious, home-cooked meal.

The walls were a nasty shade of green and the only semblance to color came from the glowing hearth placed strategically in the middle of the left side of the room. The hearth in the center of the back of the room had been specifically enchanted so cooling licks grazed the customers instead of the scorching touch of a conflagration.

Bellatrix looked at the dwellers, taking inventory of their tired, muddy faces. Her eyes combed the pub again. Only a few souls lingered around the cramped space, but it didn't take her long to find her sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa.

"I was beginning to think you'd never show up," Andromeda said with a smile.

She stood up and hugged her, which Bellatrix returned.

"I let my thoughts get the best of me," she told them simply.

"So, you're blaming your tardiness on your fleeting mind?" Narcissa smirked, embracing her quickly before sitting back down.

Bellatrix gave her a look before joining them at the small table.

When Narcissa handed her a cold glass of wine, she said, "The weather has been terribly burdensome as of late. I wonder if the rain will ever relent?"

"It's better than the excess work my boss has been giving us," Andromeda told her.

"How is that husband of yours, Bellatrix?"

"I would know if he was home more often." She took a long sip of her wine. "I think Rodolphus enjoys the idea of me staying up late at night waiting for him. Had I known I would marry a workaholic, I wouldn't have agreed to marry him. He is always so busy."

"Some things matter more than love, Bellatrix," Andromeda reminded her. "Rodolphus is a… difficult man."

"Are you trying to insinuate that my husband doesn't love me?"

"No, what I am trying to say is that maybe you need to relax more," said her oldest sister. "You're always thinking—"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing." Bellatrix glared at her.

"It's not," Narcissa told her. "We are all on edge. Germany just took Poland and now we've found ourselves fighting another pointless war."

"It's not a pointless war when so many people will die," Bellatrix whispered.

She took another sip of her wine and rubbed her temples. Granted, she didn't want to dwell on such diminishing thoughts. All she wanted to have was a nice night out with her sisters, but now Andromeda had brought up the possibility that Rodolphus didn't love her.

Love did strange things to people.

Some things matter more than love, but Bellatrix had yet to figure out what that meant.

She supposed that she had to find a cause for herself. Even as a little girl during the first world war, she'd been too preoccupied with the deaths, and the assumption that her voice never mattered. Bellatrix had nothing to live for; she had a husband that was rarely ever home, no children, and co-workers who didn't think she could do the same job as they were doing. She felt undignified and worthless to the point that she'd started to believe every uttered word.

"I don't believe Germany will withdraw their troops," Narcissa went on without so much as a preamble. "They have until eleven tomorrow morning to do so and you know that slimy little man isn't going to retreat so easily. I overheard someone from the grocery store saying that the allies have been able to intercept transmissions from Germany, but they've yet to figure out the Enigma."

"They're never going to figure out that bloody thing," Andromeda said, chucking a piece of a chip at her. "They're better off using a rat because at least it has a slim chance of doing something productive. This war isn't going to be won easily; it'll take much more than punching codes into a computer to thwart that slimy little man."

Bellatrix hardly paid attention to their sisters went on like that for quite some time. Occasionally, she would chime in with a single thought or two. Otherwise, she remained perfectly silent with her humble thoughts.

Before she knew it, her sisters took their leave.

"Hopefully one day your thoughts won't be filled with violence and mathematical wonders."

"Well, keep on hoping, sister." Bellatrix smiled at Narcissa as she stood up and gave Andromeda a hug.

Even after their small discussion, she still felt as if she didn't know who she was and what her purpose was.

"Your sister is right," a voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Bellatrix found a tall, handsome man smiling at her. Before she had the chance to introduce herself, she looked around the pub once again.

Heavily cloaked sentinels patrolled the aisles, their eyes scanning the area, making sure the building was safe and secured. Bellatrix caught one of their eyes, her eyebrows knitting together as he stared unreadably at her from behind dark spectacles. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his jaw noticeably clenched. He appeared to be waiting for someone. Bellatrix couldn't say who since no authoritative personals would ever converge together in a very public area, much less than in some old pub in the middle of London.

She was the first to break eye contact.

"German spies," the man told her in a low voice.

He took her elbow and sat down at the table that she'd shared with her sisters.

Bellatrix stared at him. "You know this because…"

He smiled. "Tom Riddle," he said, taking her hand. "Would it be so much to ask you to act as my wife?"

She stumbled on her words. "Y-your wife?"

"Only for the duration of a short conversation," he said with a smile. "I'll pay for another round of drinks if it's too much of an inconvenience."

It was as if he had not noticed the increase in security, the heightened awareness that something was off. Something that Bealltrix couldn't name began to stir disparagingly inside the large room. An aura of forsaken misery and dread enveloped them in a chilly, unsympathetic embrace. It was as if death had graced their presence but none of them were aware except for her.

"What I said earlier," he began as if there hadn't been a huge pause in their conversation, "your sister is right. Some things matter more than love, and I could tell from the moment you walked into me that you are in need of a purpose."

"You…"

Her newly found acquaintance smiled again, this time flashing a set of white, straight teeth. As Bellatrix looked at him, she found him to be remarkably handsome and sophisticated. He was nothing like the men she'd met during her youth. However, something about him drew her in.

Perhaps it was the debonair disposition that she found attractive.

Whoever this man was, he certainly was put together. He wore a simple suit with expensive-looking cuffs made of silver. His hair fell just over his eyes, almost caressing the delicate skin beneath them. Most importantly of all, there was a connection to the likes of which she'd never felt, and she couldn't help to play along with his little game.

"Alright," she said, pursing her lips. "Tell me, Tom Riddle, what sort of work do you do? I'm not convinced I'm safe in your company, so forgive me when I say this, but you've got to convince me that those men are spies."

"What, you don't believe me," he asked, smirking. Tom raised a delicate eyebrow at the allegation and Bellatrix found herself bewitched by his flirtatious demeanor. "Take a good look around because this place is filled with German spies."

"Yes, but _how_ do you know."

As she sat listening to the man explain, she quickly thought back during the few times she'd managed to get her hands on the newspaper. Most of the time, she never received news from the outside, and if she did, it was always highly unreliable. Bellatrix hardly believed that the men were spies, though she was prompted to believe that anyone could be aiding Germany. Even she could easily pass as a German spy, although something about her new friend told her that she could trust him.

Bellatrix leaned back in her seat.

By this time, he'd paid for three rounds of whiskey and she was beginning to feel tipsy. If intriguing her with his presence was a way to get her to sleep with him, then he would be sorely mistaken. She loved her husband and she would never fall for another man's tricks.

"About what my sister said to me," Bellatrix began, slurring her words a little. "She is only looking out for me."

"By telling you that your heart isn't worth listening to?" he countered with a question.

She didn't respond at first. Before she had time to process what he meant, Tom stood up and smiled one last time.

"Some things matter more than love," he said. "I can see it in your eyes, and you know what they say about eyes. They're the gateway to the soul and if yours could speak, it would tell me with imploring passion that you're struggling to find your purpose. You never wanted to marry that man; you only did it out of obligation to your family. If you hadn't, they would've disowned you. I don't know what sort of life you expected to live when you were young, but living a lie isn't living at all. Think about it and come find me."

Tom slipped a piece of paper.

Bellatrix watched as he then weaved through the throngs of people.

As soon as he exited the pub, she unfolded the piece of paper and read:

_When the purpose of life becomes the foundation of something worth living for_

_~TR_


	7. A Winter Wonderland Surprise

**Written for The Houses Competition **

**House: **Gryffindor

**Position:** Transfiguration

**Prompts: **Learning to make Fudge [Action]

**Word Count: **987

**Drabble/Standard: **Drabble

* * *

**A Winter Wonderland Surprise **

The weather outside was horrible, but inside, it was nice and cozy and oh, so delightful! They should stay around the fire, enjoying a warm cup of tea. However, Christmas was just around the corner and Draco Malfoy found himself helping his new wife with the tedious task of making fudge.

His arms were screaming at the task ahead.

There was an ungodly amount of effort that had to be put into making the horrid little squares. Of course, Hermione wouldn't be satisfied until she made twenty different batches to send off to their friends and family. They were only on their second batch, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she became overwhelmed by the large amount of work they had to do. Or rather, the work she _wanted _to do. For some reason, she was going full throttle, and he hoped he'd make it out of this without losing one of his limbs.

"Draco, you've got to keep stirring it," she told him anxiously.

Hermione waved her wand and three pots appeared between them. Each of them had a ladle and was being stirred vigorously by an invisible force. Her hair was a frizzy mess and there was an insane look in her eyes he'd never seen before.

"We haven't even started the rum balls."

"Rum balls," he stated with a huff. "Just how many sweets are you planning on sending to everyone?"

"Oh, just some sugar cookies, rum balls, fudge, candy canes…"

He shook his head as she continued down the list of things.

As he'd feared, she wouldn't be satisfied until everyone got a little bit of everything… Every year, it seemed that they gave away a piece of their souls, but he wasn't going to restart that argument. Not on their first _married _Christmas holidays. He was only doing it because she always set aside a large batch of the end pieces. Fudge was a great treat. It was a delectable morsel of crunchy goodness, but he didn't care so much for the perfect cubes—he loved the lumpy end pieces that no one else wanted to eat.

Which was perfectly fine with him.

After what seemed like forever to Draco, they finally finished, a variety of batches surrounding them; nevertheless, he only had eyes on one of them.

The batch of fudge wasn't anything special, aside from the fact that Hermione had made it. It consisted of white chocolate and walnuts. It wasn't anything unique like her candy cane fudge or rocky road one, but the fact that she always went out of her way to save his favorite part of the batches meant more to him than she'd ever know.

"Thank you for helping me," she whispered, handing him a large tub of fudge. "Lumpy ends per your request."

Draco took the tub with a smile. "You're welcome." He paused for a moment. "I have something for you as well."

His wife tilted her head to the side at the sudden proclamation. "I didn't ask for anything, Draco—"

"Nonsense." He waved his hand with a laugh. "I was finding your favorite book a bit of an eyesore. So, I took the liberty of mending it. It's protected by a spell that will keep it from wasting away. I know how much you appreciate an aged book, but I would hate for you to have to see it become more damaged as the years go by."

Draco took out her book and showed it to her.

The spine was about to fall off, but he'd managed to mend it without a problem. The more he looked at it, the more he was reminded of their days at Hogwarts. Her newly revived book wasn't by any means new; it still had those aged characteristics he knew she'd come to love and adore. He smiled slightly at the sight. It still had splotches of coffee in one of the early chapters as well as a tiny rip down the middle of another page further in the book.

Draco knew she was trying hard to remind herself that he didn't do anything to deface the book but rather ensured that the book would remain as it was now without it crumbling in her delicate hands.

"Oh, Draco." She clenched her book against her breast with one of her hands before throwing her other arm around his neck. "I-I don't know what to say."

"You can either kiss me or…"

"No, I mean I don't know how to feel! I'm touched you thought of this, but I feel I should be upset, too. I won't be able to make any more memories with this book. I know what you did was to make sure I don't lose it entirely, but I can't help feel sad by the prospect of not seeing how it holds up throughout the years," she cried hysterically. "I don't even know why I'm crying!"

"That's why I put a spell on it so that when you wave your wand over the pages, any memory or coffee stain will appear. It's not like you won't make any new memories with it. I just wanted you to have it to read to our kids someday."

Draco pulled her close, hardly noticing the small bump of her stomach.

When he wrapped his arms around her, something occurred to him. Hermione had been nothing less than a drill sergeant during the last few weeks, especially when it came to making the fudge, and he hadn't understood why. The thought hadn't even passed his head until that moment.

"I… Hermione I think you may be pregnant."

"Pregnant," she pondered nervously, her eyes growing watery. "Pregnant… oh my _God_! I'm over a month late!"

He couldn't help but smile.

Kissing her temple, Draco wrapped his arms around her, grateful that he would be receiving more than just fudge for Christmas.


	8. And, So the Moon Finally Captured the Su

**Written for The Houses Competition **

**House: **Gryffindor

**Position:** Transfiguration

**Prompts: **[Romantic Pairing] Dean Thomas/ Seamus Finnigan

**Word Count: **2586

**Drabble/Standard: **Standard

* * *

**And, So the Moon Finally Captured the Sun**

Dean Thomas knew this was only a spell, but the damage had been done; he was in love…

The Astronomy Tower was dressed with sparkling tinsel of silver and gold; a beautiful array of ornaments varying in sizes adorned the intricate gazebo that closed the guests off from the large gust of chilled winter wind. The soft hum of a harp accompanied by a lone violin and cello breathed life to the growing throngs of people as the other side of the tower was opened up to accommodate them. There was a sort of ambiance the likes of which he had never experienced. Whether it was the warm atmosphere protecting them from the frosty world outside or it was because the year was coming to a close.

Dean was sure that the end of this year would be the beginning of something wonderful in the next year.

Everyone was dressed up in their best robes; a sea of pure white, light blue, and soft purple clouded his vision but his eyes were set on one particular individual who had finally arrived. Loud and boisterous calls sounded all around him, though he barely heard them as the groups of people finally parted. Dean's heart began to beat wildly inside his chest; his wrist itched but he ignored it for the time being.

Magic had to be involved as he found himself inching closer and closer to Seamus Finnigan.

He never expected him to attend this sort of social gathering. The wizard looked completely out of place but utterly handsome with his hair trimmed and his five o'clock shadow showing even though the sun was setting. His eyes were dark as ever… they were like a window to his soul. He, too, wore immaculate robes but he chose a less festive arrangement. His robes were dark and twisted, yet held an appeal appropriate for the occasion.

Just as Dean noticed the change, brilliant lights lit up the tower and the music changed from a slow paced-concerto to a more upbeat and festive one. He was about to walk up to Seamus but decided against it. He watched the wizard become lost in the sea of the other attendees and his heart sank.

The spell that had gripped him from the moment he arrived finally loosened, and he ambled over to the large and elaborate display of fruits, nuts, and finger food in the middle of the venue. As he was helping himself with a fresh plate of scrumptious apple tarts and a mini meat pie, someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he came face to face with a beaming Hermione Granger.

She looked stunning in her lovely light-blue dress. It accentuated every curve of her body and added every bit of adulterous splendor to her already beautiful physique. Her curly hair was tamed with an elaborate array of pearls and ribbons. One of the most defining features of her person was her eyes, and he assumed that she'd already taken her soulmate's eyes after her Animagus transformation. Professor McGonagall had always wondered why his transformations failed, and he understood why.

Dean smiled awkwardly at her before realizing who was accompanying her.

"Alright there, Thomas?" Graham Montague asked with a grin. His left eye sparkled to match Hermione's naturally brown one. Hermione's right eye glittered to match his charcoal one.

He wondered if he'd ever find his soulmate…

"Adequate," he told him stiffly. "How're your studies going, Granger?"

Hermione beamed, "Splendidly! I'm more than halfway done with them. Next semester, I'll be able to work hands-on with the patients at St. Mungos!"

Dean smiled, "Sounds amazing."

"It is…," she told him, letting silence fall between them once again. "You know, Dean… he's not going to talk to you unless you confront him first. I remember when we went through Animagus training together and how much you struggled…It's been almost two years already, and you should've been able to transform completely."

"It's almost like he's missing something," Graham commented, his eyes trailing somewhere behind them. "Speak of the…"

Dean knew immediately who he was looking at, and his heart jumped.

His skin felt like it was on fire, the hairs on his neck protruding painfully against the collar of his robes. His entire body was calling for Seamus, but it was a shame that the wizard's awakening hadn't happened yet. Dean knew from the second he saw him in Professor McGonagall's class that he was the One. Unfortunately, Seamus was oblivious to that fact.

"I say forget it all and go talk to him," Graham finally said. "Imagine my surprise when I first turned and Granger's hummingbird Animagus projection captured my eye? I was completely mortified, but thankfully I had the support of my mother and father…"

"What is your _point, _Montague," Dean frowned, obviously deterred by his long speech. "It's not like I have anyone else for support. I've only got myself."

"Well, you have _our _support," Hermione reached out and placed her hand reassuringly on his arm. Dean stared at her and warmth flooded back into his limbs. "I mean if the two of us can be together, then why can't you and Seamus?"

"He's never going to accept the fact that we're soulmates, Hermione."

"I think you're being too much of a pessimist, Thomas. I mean, do you realize how much _I _struggled until I found out Granger was my soulmate? I couldn't even concentrate on what I wanted to transform into. We're in rivaling houses, _and _we were thrown together by some cosmic force. On top of that, her Animagus is a doe, and mine is a python. It's the greatest joke known to man."

Dean looked reluctant to look either of them in the eye.

Granted, there were many witches and wizards that didn't have the soulmate thing going for them. Those who did, however, formed a bond so strong that their eyes were changed as a physical representation of it. They could be on opposite sides of the world, and the connection would remain strong.

It came as a great surprise he'd managed to transform at all, but he was never able to hold his Animagus' form. In Dean's opinion, it was broken because half of his soul was missing in a man who hadn't fully awakened.

To fully awaken, they both have to acknowledge the fact that there's a connection. If both parties aren't open then neither one of them can fully transform into their Animagus' form. Dean knew right away and didn't repress it; in fact, he accepted it as it was because it felt right to do so. Seamus on the other hand was repressing it and he could feel it even though they weren't connected.

"What Montague is trying to say…"

"Hey now," Graham tugged on her hand and frowned. "I thought we were on a first-name basis, Granger?"

Hermione ignored him," Remember what professor McGonagall taught us? It's not enough to believe that we can transform… we've got to visualize what we want to transform into. None of us chose our Animagus forms and we most certainly didn't choose who would share this connection with. I mean, you and Seamus tried to transform together and somehow your separate magic profiles became one."

"I can't _make _him realize that," Dean told her. "It doesn't work like that. If he never realizes it, I'll never be able to transform. Not that it would be the end of the world."

"No, you'll just spend the rest of your life with an empty feeling inside your heart," Graham offered, looking at Hermione.

"If it helps, he's been looking at you for a while. There's still a chance that you two will end up together. Imagine how happy that'll make Professor McGonagall!"

With Hermione's encouragement and Graham's silent motivation, Dean turned around and stalked toward Seamus.

He found him standing on the outskirts of the party nursing a cold cocktail. His eyes were drawn to the dwindling light, and Dean momentarily became perplexed by the serene atmosphere outside their small bubble. His Animagus happened to be an owl, and as a nocturnal creature, he was drawn to the silent period after sunset and the quiet pause before dawn. Owls were at their most active at night, and he hoped that Seamus, whose Animagus was a fox, would understand his feelings.

It had become tiresome for the moon to chase after the sun. Being in a constant state of worry had taken a terrible toll on Dean after coming to terms that he was attracted to Seamus and that their friendship hung in the balance every time they met. Even during training, he would look at him and wonder how they could possibly be meant for one another: the moon was never going to catch up to the sun, and the sun was never going to slow down enough to walk alongside the moon. So, why keep up this charade when neither of them was going to be happy?

That's if Seamus felt anything for Dean.

When he finally conjured up the courage, he closed the distance between them and took hold of Seamus' hand.

He wasn't stunned at all.

On the contrary, he looked as relieved as Dean was to finally be shining at the same time.

"And, so the moon finally captured the sun," Dean murmured, entwining his fingers with Seamus' "I've got to get this off my back, mate. I need you to be opened minded, though."

"What are you getting at," Seamus tried to break the incredible hold he had on his hand. Though he struggled, Dean never let go. In fact, his grip only tightened, but he let him struggle to break free until he hadn't the strength to go on.

"What kind of spell did you cast?"

"What _spell_," Dean asked curiously. "You're the one who cast-"

"I didn't do anything," he snapped. "Answer me this, Thomas. Why am I so inexplicably drawn to you? Why is it every time I see you all I want to do is protect you? Don't give me any rubbish about a spell not being involved because I know the difference between a charm and a hex!"

"We're soulmates, Finnigan."

"I..._what_?"

"You heard me," Dean said flatly. "During our first transformation, it became apparent. I took on your Animagus' eyes in my left but I haven't a clue why you hadn't taken mine. There was this constant pull, and I thought it had to be you hadn't realized it yet. Tragic, really. Who would've guessed one nocturnal and one diurnal creature could ever be compatible. Trust me, even I don't understand it myself."

Seamus began to fumble with his words, "You mean… we're soulmates and you realized it… and I haven't yet?"

"There's only one way to find out…"

"What do I have to do?"

"Kiss me," Dean shrugged. "It's the only way we'll know for sure. If it works, you'll take on my Animagus' eye in your right one. If it doesn't, well, you've just kissed a bloke on the eve of the new year, and you'll spend the rest of your life wondering about your sexuality."

Seamus frowned at the joke, "Oh, alright. I haven't anything to lose, really."

Dean smiled, feeling a lot better about the predicament at hand.

He'd never kissed another boy before.

He hadn't the slightest clue how to go about it, but if it was anything like kissing a girl, all he had to do was lean in and press his lips against Seamus, hoping for the best.

A small part of him wished all this was a joke; the rarity of finding a soulmate the same sex as you are is astronomical but certainly not unheard of. There were a few accounts dating back as far as 300 B.C., but that didn't alleviate the butterflies flying around in his stomach.

Dean felt his lips against his and was completely lost.

His lips tasted like strawberries picked on a warm spring day. When Seamus pulled back, he looked deep into his eye and found what he was looking for. His right eye momentarily became illuminated by his Animagus' eye, and he soon found himself leaning in for another kiss. This time, Dean gripped the boy's shoulders and growled when he felt his arms wrapped around his neck. They stood there for quite some time, enjoying each other's taste before the need for oxygen finally appeared.

Dean pulled away panting.

"I guess that answers our question," Seamus said sheepishly. "Where does that leave us?"

"You're stuck with me, Finnegan." Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the rest of the party.

When he found Hermione and Graham again, he couldn't help but grin at his friend's excited expressions. Even Graham looked relieved to finally see something positive come from a stressful situation.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, mate. At least now you'll be able to transform into your animal's form, eh?"

Dean's heart sank to the bottom of his chest.

That was something he never thought he would accomplish. Now that he had Seamus, maybe it had become another tangible possibility out of all this madness. As Hermione said, it'd been two years, and most people wouldn't have taken so long to master it. He wondered if he would finally be able to.

"Now or never," he told them. "I'll never know unless I try, right?"

Seamus gave him a reassuring smile and Dean smiled back.

He stepped as far away from them as he could and concentrated hard on his owl form. Dean imagined a magnificent owl opening its eyes and stretching its wings after a long hiatus. The sun was finally setting, and a cold breeze broke through the otherwise warm enclosure of the party. A few of the attendees had formed a small circle around him, but the only person he had eyes on was Seamus. His face clouded his vision, and soon he wasn't just imagining an owl but a fox as well.

Dean closed his eyes, visualizing an owl and fox frolicking in a field. It was neither night nor day; it was the sweet moment before sunrise and the quiet hour before sunset. There were moments when he never thought the moon would be able to catch up to the sun. Never did the thought occur to him that there were rare moments in time when they were often seen together, and that was the inspiration that filled his mind when he felt his limbs twist and turn. He knew his body was shrinking; his hair had grown longer and turned to feathers as his face became flat. A pair of elegant wings appeared on either side of him and he stretched them out, getting a feel for flight.

Finally, what he thought was impossible, he finally took on his Animagus form.

"I'm most pleased that you were finally able to complete a full transformation, Thomas," Professor McGonagall walked forward, a rare smile forming on her lips. "Not only that, but you were also able to help Finnigan as well." She then pointed to where Seamus once stood.

In his place sat a shy fox, its ears twitching at the mention of his name.

Dean hooted, quietly thanking his former professor before taking flight for the first time.

He flew over to Seamus who, in return, began to chase after him.

Finally, the moon and sun were one.


	9. And The Rain Will Continue to Fall

**Written for The Houses Competition **

**House: **Gryffindor

**Position:** Transfiguration

**Prompts:** [Weather] Sudden downpour

**Word Count: **773

**Drabble/Standard: **Drabble

* * *

**And The Rain Will Continue to Fall**

The thunderous roar of lightning sounded before a sudden downpour of rain cleansed his body of the macabre thing he'd just done.

Albus Dumbledore stood at the foot of a grandiose cliff, the cold seemingly washing away all the sins he'd committed over the last thirty years of his life. Scarifying one's core beliefs was one thing; engaging in unspeakable acts in order to improve himself at the cost of someone else's demise was another. He firmly believed what he'd done with Grindelwald would have resounding consequences. If the sharpness in his left hand was any indication, making the Blood Pact with him would only lead to disaster.

He'd only spent two months with Grindelwald, but during that time, they shared every little ideals they possessed. Every devious secret that they kept to themselves had been revealed and when Grindelwald brought up the Blood Pact, Albus had no reservations against it. What he later discovered was that they couldn't harm the other one. The pendant they used still remained in his friend's possession.

Albus looked up at the sky.

The rain continued to fall.

There was no end to the heavy downpour, and Albus knew agreeing to his old friend's request was irresponsible and cowardly.

As far as he knew, he hadn't the power to win.

"Don't forget, my dear friend," Grindelwald's voice punctured the air. "You made a vow!"

The surrounding landscape lit up for a brief moment, and Albus turned to find his closest friend standing behind him.

Unlike himself, Grindelwald wasn't drenched in rain. He appeared to be unblemished; his hair, silver like the moon, was as striking as ever, and his eyes… his multi-colored eyes remained as unyielding and mysterious as ever.

It was as if the heavens couldn't touch him.

If that was true, then he could never be absolved of his sins.

"Had I known that making that vow with you…"

"You still would have sacrificed your principles," the dark wizard hissed. "Don't forget, Albus, I know everything there is to know about you. Including your little secret you keep from the rest of the world…"

Albus stiffened at the thought of anyone other than him finding out what he'd been hiding.

He was seen as a brilliant wizard far beyond his years; if anyone were to discover what he hid quite literally beneath the surface of his skin, there was no telling what sort of reception he'd get after the truth came out. Albus was deathly afraid of what they would think.

"They'd probably look at you in disgust, Albus." Grindelwald waltzed toward him with malicious intention dancing in his eyes. "You know what's going on in the world… they will ridicule you. No, they'll disown you. Look at what happened with your poor sister… they can't afford to lose another child, and to think that his secret is being homosexual…"

In a blink of an eye, Albus took out his wand and raised it to the sky.

A stream of powerful electricity struck his wand. Luckily, it didn't hurt in the slightest, but it demonstrated the amount of animosity he felt toward his old friend. He'd been betrayed, ridiculed, and shamed by the one person he thought he could trust. Now, he had to find a way to destroy him. Albus didn't care what he had to do; with the downpour of rain and the endless strength of the thunder lighting up the sky, he felt powerful enough to finally overthrow Grindelwald. Never in his life had he felt so powerful. Perhaps, that was his lesson after all?

To throw away one's guiding principles was one thing.

To shelter in fear and hideaway until the storm passes was another.

Albus was rejuvenated by the thought that he finally held the power. He dangled it above Grindelwald's head, just out of reach, until he let it go.

He threw back his hand, his wand still clinging onto a long and thick ribbon of electricity and aimed it at a large mountain in the distance. Rocks and debris fell from the sky, breaking whatever spell that shielded Grindelwald from the cleansing water of the thunderstorm. Although he wasn't able to physically harm him, Albus was confident enough to know that the mudslide that issued from his enormous outburst of magic would foreshadow what was to come.

Grindelwald had racked up a considerable debt. One of which Albus hoped would cleanse his being or at the very least absolve him of aiding him in his conquest to rule the world.

Now, he'd finally face the charges of committing so many sins.


	10. Arrogance Before the Fall

**Written for The Houses Competition **

**House: **Gryffindor

**Position:** Transfiguration

**Prompts:** [Last Line] "As you wish."

**Word Count: **1765

**Drabble/Standard: **Standard

* * *

**Arrogance Before the Fall**

"You have to understand, I must have her heart," the boy pleaded with the deity.

A cloaked figure stood in the shadows. Half obscured by the moonlight streaming through the Astronomy Tower, he was able to hide the disgusted and uninterested look that flickered across his features. Midnight was fast approaching, and the nighttime interlude was slowly diminishing. He had a gate to open. Only then would he finally be free of this wretched world.

He turned away from the window to look at the boy.

The Dark Prince knew him.

James Potter had come to him many nights to persuade him to do the unthinkable. How many times had he turned him down… entirely too many. Stealing the heart from someone who did not love you was forbidden; in fact, it was unheard of. But for him, unrequited love was truly as marvelous as it was entertaining, and Severus simply couldn't get enough of it.

"What business do you have with me," he asked, keeping his voice low and uninterested.

Unlike the boy in his modern clothing, Severus opted to wear the traditional robes from his realm. It just so happened that he was the god of love… whether by cruel fate or Zeus' trickery, he dared not question. As so many people before him, James had come to him in hopes of making his love interest fall in love with him. Severus had watched them for quite some time, taking detailed notes of the little troublesome suitor.

From what he'd gathered, the girl didn't like James at all.

But after all this time, the boy hadn't learned when to give up.

"I want her heart, you bloody fool!"

"Did the potion I procured for you fail?"

"You failed to mention that it wouldn't last!" James bellowed. "I would have to spend the rest of my days administering the potion to her under the watchful eyes of all our peers. Our future children would question why their mother has to take a 'happy' potion at every other meal. Don't you think that was something you should've mentioned when you gave it to me?"

Severus drew a thoughtful line against his jaw.

"Perhaps… I was not clear enough."

"You think?" he hissed. "Lily is going to find out… and she's going to hate me for what I've done to her."

Lily…

...what a beautiful name.

The Dark Prince removed himself from the protective sphere of the window and stepped into the moonlight for the first time since they'd met. Unlike the others, Jame's love interest had captured his attention. He usually left them to destroy themselves, but this time was different. Severus was going to give him the one thing no one else could…

...and that was one wish.

"Heed my warning…" Severus began earnestly. "A god granting a wish to a mere mortal has repercussions the likes of which you've never seen. The results could be cataclysmic. Love isn't an obtainable object you steal, play with for a spell, and throw it away. It is the driving force behind all of nature and the universe. Even my realm holds love to the highest of standards."

"I don't _care_," James whined insistently. "I just want her heart!"

_Of course you do_…

"If you wish… then so shall it be."

Severus didn't need to destroy him.

James would do it all on his own.

Anyone who took love too lightly was doomed to eternal damnation. Too bad his little nuisance didn't heed his warning. Otherwise, he would've been spared the painful realisation of what getting precisely what he wished for truly meant.

Severus watched from the shadows as Lily unknowingly made her way up to the Astronomy Tower late one evening. If everything went according to plan, James was just about to round the corner and startle her. She backed away slowly, enraptured by the fact that she'd found him out of bed after curfew. A slight pinch twisted his heart but it wasn't from fear…

...it was from excitement.

"Fooling around with that mortal again I see,"a voice to his right said, a gracious figure appearing out of darkness. .

His beloved had come to see his work t unfold.

"What did he ask for this time?"

"To have that girl's heart," Severus whispered. "I wonder, my love, what is it about love that brings out the worst in mortals?"

Severus saw her come closer, putting a hand on his shoulder., "I suppose they do not know how to value love. They wish and wish, but they never obtain it. Some do, of course. Though, that remains highly questionable."

"Why do you say that?"

"Did they obtain it with truth, and were they pure with their quest? Remember what I did in the beginning? I almost lost our love out of foolishness. I believed it to be the right thing."

Severus took her hands, squeezing them softly. "But you've learnt from your mistake. And we're together now. But this one.."

"Perhaps he will learn too. I know many who have asked foolish things before you have grown to understand the right path."

"Not this one… I fear he will never learn."

"What are you trying to allude…?"

Severus beckoned her to silence herself.

Just beyond their reach was James.

As he predicted, Lily had a sudden change in heart.

"I l-love you...James Potter," she struggled to get the words out.

As she spoke, small flecks of her person began to peel off. Like fragile pieces of leaves, her skin fluttered to the ground where they stood.

"Oh, dear husbandr… what did you do," she r laughed, watching as the scene continued to unfold.

"You'll see my love… it has only just begun."

He set up a small veil in front of them in case either of the mortals would catch a glimpse of them. James had said he wanted her heart, and that was precisely what he was going to get. Lily wasn't only under a love potion...she was under a spell of his own creation, and he had Death to thank for that. His spell was so powerful that whenever the person in question lies, pieces of their body would flake off. With enough lies, the only thing that would remain would be their heart.

As he said before…

...it was what James wished for.

Severus supposed he didn't know where the heart lay.

Somewhere between a rib and another rib. Perhaps, he didn't understand the true desire of his nuisance's intentions. He only wanted the girl for reasons he didn't wish to explore...but there was so much more than the body. The girl had a heart and mind; she was an intellectual and would know how to put a stop to the insistent pursuit of her unwanted pursuer. Lily's heart, as far as he knew, was pure. So, why would James want it all to himself?

"Severus, you're playing a dangerous game. One that will only lead to an endless cycle of wishes,

"Oh, 'tis but a dream."

"You mean… this is only in the dream realm? None of this is actually happening?"

"I never said we were in the dream realm, wife. Everything that is occurring now is very much real. James gave Lily that potion, and of course, he wasn't entirely enthusiastic about having to administer it to her for the rest of their days. It was only just recently that he wished for her heart, and that's what he's going to get. All of this is just an illusion...and the real girl will be spared. I am not that cruel, wife"

His wife didn't appear to be convinced.

"If this is all an illusion, then how can it be real?"

Severus sighed. "Messing with love will ultimately make one go insane, no?" he asked. "James has been blinded by the impossibility that Lily will ever love him. It is not in her fate to be with him, and he knows that. So, what does the boy do? He turns to a god to make all his wishes come true. You know I am a god who enjoys entertainment, especially when someone who thinks that they can capture true love through lies. Wishes grant exactly what the person wants… especially a wish granted by me."

The pair continued to watch the two mortals.

As they did, more lies slipped from Lily's lips. When James tried to lean in for a kiss, she kissed him back, and another piece of her person fell off like a healed scab. He pulled back, marvelling at what he'd just experienced, and once he did, he issued out a frightful scream.

During the short interlude of their conversation, the scene had changed. Several weeks had passed, and Severus found himself more enamored by the prospects of granting James' wish. Unfortunately, it was only when he'd seen the true nature of what he'd wished for, that he found himself in the presence of The Dark Prince once more.

"What's happening to her?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Severus didn't look at him at first. He only watched Lily in the glass prism in his hand.

"You are receiving exactly what you wished for, boy."

"I didn't ask for her to fall apart in front of my very eyes."

"Perhaps… you should've heeded my warning."

James shook his head.

Before he could realize what he'd done, Lily appeared before him.

"I love you…" she lied to him.

Again, another piece of her body fell away and left behind an empty place.

However, through James' eyes, Severus suspected it was far worse.

A deafening scream echoed through the Astronomy Tower. James fell backwards, and Lily appeared to be a true shell of her former self. Her skin glistened as if it had been dipped in hot wax; the space where her eyes would be were nothing but empty voids, and her arms were riddled with flecks of black and blue. The most startling part was what lay in her hands…

...it was her heart.

"Y-you can have it, James. I'm in so much pain, and I don't want it anymore."

"I take it back, deity!" The boy scrambled to his feet, begging Severus to reverse the wish. "I wish for you to take it back! This isn't what I asked for."

"Oh, but it is," Severus told him slowly.

"I wish it would all go away," James pleaded, backing away from Lily as she tried to hand him her heart.

With a devious smile, the Dark Prince obliged.

"As you wish."


	11. Heaven and Earth

**Written for The Houses Competition **

**House: **Gryffindor

**Class:** Transfiguration

**Prompts: **[Time - Object] 10:40pm, Hourglass

**Word Count: **970

**Drabble/Standard: **Drabble

* * *

**Heaven and Earth**

"You will all be assigned an hourglass," Professor McGonagall began one evening during her transfiguration demonstration. All the students leaned in closer in anticipation, aside from Ron Weasley. He dropped his head in dread, his interest nonexistent. "By this time tomorrow, I expect you all to have made some progress with this particular assignment."

"What will we be doing, professor?" Lavender Brown asked promptly.

"These hourglasses… I want you to transfigure it into anything you wish. As Seventh Years, I expect nothing less than extraordinary. This will be your final assignment, and you will be graded accordingly on how well you perform."

Hermione raised her hand, and Ron only rolled his eyes. "Professor, how will you grade this? If this assignment allows us to transfigure the hourglass into anything we wish, then how will it be possible to grade us? On top of that, the hourglasses are active. From my calculations, we only have until tomorrow night at 10:40 to accomplish our goal."

"Too right you are, Miss Granger. You have until then to transfigure them into anything you wish. Think of what you most desire and manifest it. Whether it is a better version of yourself or a polished wooden frame holding a precious portrait of your grandmother. The possibilities are boundless. In the meantime, I will be waiting for you when you accomplish it."

Ron stared at the misshapen hourglass, his professor's words echoing like some irksome mantra in his ear. He'd spent the last few hours after class trying to get the spell to work, but it hadn't done anything. It was as if the inanimate object was waiting for something, though Ron couldn't figure out what.

Something was missing.

He recounted previous lessons with his professor and flipped through old textbooks, but he'd found nothing that would aid him in his final assignment. He looked at the hourglass and grimaced. At this rate, he'd fail and would have to go back to the Burrow with nothing in his hand that stated he'd graduated from Hogwarts. His mother would be disappointed and he might as well be the only one who didn't finish school.

The time was dwindling fast, and before he knew it, he found that he only had an hour to transfigure it. While his classmates had no problem transfiguring it into anything they wished, he was having trouble getting his thoughts together. It wasn't about performing the spell; it was about finding the confidence to do so.

The hourglass could be transfigured into anything.

So many possibilities came to mind.

He looked at the clock again and found that he only had thirty minutes before McGonagall would collect their hourglasses—how she was going to do that was beyond him. 10:40 PM was a pretty precise time and only having a little over a day to do the assignment had proven difficult to say the very least.

Then, McGonagall's words pierced his ear once again.

This time, they sounded clearer.

_...a better version of yourself…_

Ron looked at the small hourglass and picked it up. As small as it was, the weight of it was immense. Was he truly capable of turning something so worthless and plain into something that mirrored his person? Who would've thought that he, Ron Weasley, would be able to live up to the brilliance of his brothers?

No one had to be outshadowed by anyone. They could all share in the limelight, and no one had to be left out.

Why hadn't he believed in himself before?

Picking up his wand, the spell just a breath away from leaving his lips, he pointed it at the hourglass and whispered. At first, the hourglass did nothing. Dejected, he waited...

...But not for long. Out of nowhere, a cloud of grey smoke appeared before him, and once it settled, he was met with a mirrored image of himself. His doppelganger was smiling, and there was a twinkle in his eye that he hadn't seen before.

Ron stepped back and took a moment to appreciate what he'd just done.

Quickly, he looked at the clock to find he'd finished just in time.

10:40 PM on the dot, but McGonagall was nowhere to be found.

"I knew you had it in you all along, Mr Weasley," a voice ricocheted off the walls.

Ron looked around to find one of the mirrors in the common room had been transfigured to allow one-on-one communication between the two of them. "Well done," McGonagall told him with a small smile.

Ron looked at his mirror image and then back at her. "Professor… I've got a question."

"Go on," she urged.

"What was the purpose of this assignment? I mean, there are endless possibilities like Hermione said and…"

"You're keen to know, and I shall tell you. The purpose of this assignment was to establish balance. I know you've always felt as if you live in the shadows of your brothers and your peers, but one cannot live that way. As Granger said, there was no possible way to grade this so I designed it in a way that would allow me to do so. Hourglasses come in so many shapes and sizes; you are all remarkably different, and it's that difference that makes you all unique."

"You knew from the beginning," he said.

She nodded, looking right at the mirror image of him. "Yes, I knew. As with the others, I wanted you to find the balance. As I've said before and I'll say it again… the top tier is Heaven and the bottom tier is the Earth. It was in you all along to find balance between the two. By accomplishing this, I hope you find peace. There's a light inside you Ronald, so don't be afraid to let it shine."


	12. We Built This Home

**Written for The Houses Competition and The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

**House: **Gryffindor

**Team: **Wimbourne Wasps

**Class:** Transfiguration

**Position: **Beater 2

**Prompts: **[Event] Taking your/their last breath (THC); (quote) "Nothing's perfect. The world's not perfect. But it's there for us, trying the best it can; that's what makes it so beautiful."- Hiromu Arakawa, Fullmetal Alchemist & (song) "To Build a Home" by The Cinematic Orchestra (TQLFC).

**Word Count: **1202

**Drabble/Standard: **Standard

* * *

**We Built This Home**

No one said it would be easy.

Hell, Draco Malfoy didn't expect it to be.

Their home was small and built of stone.

The walls were crumbling and the floors were wooden and bare. A soft squeak escaped from the first instant they set foot in the cottage. Inside, there was nothing but worn and dusty chairs and a broken dining room table. In one corner of the room sat a baby's cot, but neither of them wanted to tarnish the memories of the previous owners by throwing it out. Although it was something he wasn't particularly used to, he held onto the determination that one day this little shack by the sea would be part of their world.

"I know it's not much," Harry started, but Draco interrupted.

"Clearly," he said with a sneer which turned into a loving smile, "but it's ours. With a little elbow grease, we'll get this place in order and make it our own."

"Elbow grease." Harry smirked. "I didn't know they made that."

"Funny, _Potter_." Draco draped an arm around his husband's shoulders and they walked into the kitchen together. "Now, where do we start?"

"Anywhere you want," Harry said with a small smile. "I know it's going to be a lot of work—"

"Everything is a lot of work when it comes to you."

"However, I know that this is the place I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Draco looked away, a rebuttal forming on his lips. Instead, he smiled, and on they went.

They continued on like that for the next several months.

Banter and blissful unawareness became part of their daily routine. In the mornings, they would wake up to the soothing calling of the ocean, the whisper of seagulls, and the oceanic beauty of their seaside cottage. They'd commute to work after breakfast on the beach, or when the weather wasn't cooperating, they'd take their meal inside in the kitchen. No matter where they were, they viewed the same picturesque background of their new lives together, and Draco couldn't be happier.

In the evenings, they'd come home and prepare dinner together.

The seaside cottage made Draco feel that he wasn't alone.

It was a place that he could call home.

Months slowly morphed into years, and Draco found himself in the same small cottage he'd renovated with his husband.

All around him was dust and grime; the happy ambience that used to light up the cottage had long since evaporated. The merriment and memories remained as fresh as the day they'd made them, but nothing was the same. Draco looked out the window one morning, finding the courage to venture out. The day remained calm, but inside his heart was pounding.

There was a garden where they'd planted seeds which had sprouted the most glorious flowers and foliage he'd ever seen. Adjacent to their little garden was a tree that Draco swore was as old as him. He chuckled at the thought, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his hand. With shaking hands, he fixed his hat and climbed to the top of the hill, admiring the same old view he'd done for the last fifty-five years. Although he'd changed and aged with as much grace as time and the human body would allow, the seaside cottage and all its surrounding accessories hadn't been touched by the same hand that had touched him.

"You know," Draco began before clearing his throat. His voice was gruff and low.

He raised a hand and scratched a pesky little spot on his chin. When his eyes finally caught sight of the small tombstone underneath the tree, his voice cracked as he continued to speak.

"I didn't want to move here," he told his husband. "The sea, the fresh air… oh, the whole bloody idea of it was absurd, but somehow you talked me into it. One way or another, Potter, you always got your way… and that's why after three years, I've never understood why you didn't want to get treatment for that Muggle disease you had."

Draco took out his wand and conjured a small bench.

He sat, gathered his thoughts, and sighed.

Harry had been diagnosed with cancer a few years before his departure. Of course, being as stubborn as he was, he refused treatment, and for the life of him, Draco couldn't figure out why. The advancements they had in medicine were extraordinary; it wasn't only their lives that had changed, but the world had done so as well. Draco was certain treatment would've been something he wanted. His husband had a funny way of proving him wrong even after all these years.

Draco was there when Harry took his last breath. He was surrounded by family, something he was adamant about. Although his late husband didn't want a grand production of his last days on Earth, he knew in his heart that he was at least grateful he was able to give Harry everything he ever wanted. Everything leading up to his last breath had been peaceful and serene, and it brought him peace knowing Harry had left feeling loved.

"Remember when Xavius graduated Hogwarts with honors?" Draco asked mindlessly. "Hundreds of years of Slytherins and we somehow managed to raise a Hufflepuff. Imagine that… Father didn't speak to me for weeks, although we both know he was proud of his great-grandson. And Arabella… she's grown into a fabulous woman, you know. I still can't believe Granger agreed to be our surrogate."

And he continued on like that…

...reminiscing about their life together until time seemed to stop. It was as if everything came to a great halt and he was reminded once again, with each breath he took, that he didn't have Harry.

Draco leaned back and sighed.

"I know I say this a lot, but nothing's perfect. The world's not perfect. But it's there for us, trying the best it can; that's what makes it so beautiful. The fifty years you gave me… I truly cannot express how much they meant to me. For someone like you to love someone like me… it had to have been some kind of miracle that we spent so many years together. That, or you managed to slip me a love potion and it hasn't worn off yet." He chuckled at the last part because he knew, wherever Harry was, he was laughing too.

Draco looked out at the sea and smiled when a rather large wave hit the embankment down below. "I suppose that's your way of telling me, 'I told you so', hmm?"

Another wave hit the rocks on the shore, shutting away any doubt that Harry was there in his own way.

"You may not be here with me physically, but I know you're here and you were right. Nothing is perfect; the world certainly isn't. I'm not perfect, but somehow you fell in love with my imperfection as I did yours. I will never forget that, and I will never forget this seaside cottage even after I join you and turn to dust."

Draco looked up as he took his final breath and joined Harry on the other side.


End file.
